From The Moon Drenched Shores
by writerworld123
Summary: Frank N. Furter lands on earth and sees the sun for the first time.


The ship landed upon mother earth's face when the sun was at it's highest point in the sky. They landed within the heart of an arid cesspool of dust.

Death Valley

Furter's servants would often vacate the ship first, just in the possible instance of sacrificing themselves were to be necessary- and not Frank N. Furter himself.

The Gods forbid harm come to the hair of a royal Furter...

"Master... _master... _we have made a landing."

They stood within the doorway of the majesty's "boudoir" of the ship. The lofty prince, whom had been gasping in delight of his naughty dreams, had awoken not to his disgruntled servant, but, a warmth spilled through the ship's window, just upon his brow.

He had felt the warmth of various wonders. The warmth of flesh...The warmth of temper...

The warmth of blood shed...

This warmth, however, was not ignited by himself nor an eager touch. Even the great masculine caress of the muscle man he'd been dreaming of did not carry such heat.

The Furter opened his heavily shadowed lids to his very first witnessing of gold.

Not the deep and tragic unlit hues of his home planet, but, a rather translucent ... spotlight... awaiting just for him!

Riff-Raff's mouth twitched. "We will scope the external grounds for any danger that may await you ... Master."

Frank arose from his bed rather hastily, knotting his satin robe over his bare knickers.

"Like hell you will! I want to experience this... this... enigma of glory first!"

He strut past his servants, nose to the air, whilst they watched through monotone eyes.

Frank N. Furter leaped down the Victorian spiral stairwell from the ships mouth, feet clad only in fishnets, whilst tossing his head back with a cry.

"Oh... _oh! _ It's too passionate... this... _this!_ " Frank thrashed his chin around and up to the illuminated sky- shading his eyes with a delicate hand.

He posed as one of those classic ingenue's may.

"Oh... blue skies... skies of blue!" Frank wailed within a succulent moan.

His lace clad fingers clamored together- as he was seeing blue skies through the tears in his eyes.

Frank hadn't felt such a disarray of triumphant flustering since... since...

His very first _orgasm_.

"Servants... oh... my great inadequate lumps ... come witness this yellow rapture- or the very least catch me if I do so faint!"

Frank pranced towards the ship, only to discover his servants were stripped bare and tossed in an affair of heat that Frank was discernibly familiar with.

Dismissing it without so much as a flutter of a hand, the mad prince spun about where he stood and looked upon his servants adoringly.

"This planet... will be my playground of warm waters... and I haven't even sprung into my manhood desires or sins of the flesh yet!" Frank sung, whilst untying his robe to expose his satin clad nether regions in all their glory.

The servants, mounted up against the sonic transducer, obliged to his enthusiasm without so much a bat of a lash.

Magenta tilted her head, curls wavering like the dust blown on mars, as she gestured to the red silk g-string exposed.

"Master... your... face ... matches your panties..."

Frank's ruby lips bloomed into a malefic grin.

"Oh, Riff-Raff, even your dim-witted bitch can see my own natural rouge gracing my flowering face!" Frank gasped in feverish delight.

The servants looked to one another slowly.

Frank clapped once at them. "Now, now, enough of your coitus activity- for now- we must be off so I may further relish in this banquet of ivory. I must primp my face and rub m- _oh_ !"

The prince caressed his polished cheeks.

"Oh, rosy, I _am_ rosy! This strange planet has blossmed me into a fair rose!"

"It's noving mor' than heat vrom a lone star-_master._" Magenta retorted.

"A star destined to expand and explode in less than five billions years, destroying this world and all the rest of this galaxy to accompany it- _master._" Riff-Raff droned.

"Ver' is also such a thing' as _sunburn -_ master."

Nonetheless, Frank N. Furter was already before his vanity mirror of his boudoir- engaged as narcissist himself- admiring his newborn blush.

"Oh, who knew one_ star_ could rose tint one's entire world!"


End file.
